


Opening Credits

by scratches



Series: Vampire!Darcy [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Brock has a boner for vampires, Darcy is a vampire, F/M, Jane and Erik science, Movie Night, Movie Watching, Not Beta Read, Pre-Relationship, Queen of the Damned, Vampire Darcy - Freeform, Vampires, all the popcorn, blink and you'll miss him, clint barton - Freeform, compelling, no feelings yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24765688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scratches/pseuds/scratches
Summary: Why does Darcy Lewis' SHIELD file sayDO NOT ENGAGE!?  Brockwillfind out.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Series: Vampire!Darcy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791016
Comments: 31
Kudos: 152





	Opening Credits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleMrsCookie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMrsCookie/gifts).



> I think I promised some people a prequel. 
> 
> I dont own this  
> I didn't even attempt to correct my spelling or grammar. have fun!
> 
> Holy fuck. I moved the damn queen of the damned tag happy?

**DO NOT ENGAGE**

Brock looked at the file he pulled up on Foster’s intern. The words were red, large and bold at the top of the file. The woman’s basic stats were next to a photograph of her. She wore a thick _Yale Class of ‘96_ sweater, large round wire rimmed glasses, and a bright red smile. He moved the cursor down the page and clicked for the next page in her file. A window popped up and informed him:

**ACCESS DENIED**

He pursed his lips and clicked the override box. Brock typed in the STRIKE failsafe code:

**ACCESS DENIED**

Brock looked out of the windscreen of the black out SUV and stared. His subordinates moved with terrifying efficiency as the intern bossed them around. Brock was a little worried. The SHIELD grunts usually didn’t work that competently. Fingers tapped mindlessly on the edge of the laptop as he watched her. She had her hands on wide hips and the slight breeze that was coming off the mesa and down the gulch where the town was located blew her loose brown hair around her shoulders. 

Foster and Selvig were already nose deep in theories about the Einstein-Rosen Bridge, no mind given to the suited men and women moving equipment around them. 

He caught Darcy Lewis give Jane Foster a wink as they caught one another’s eyes. Maybe Jane trusted the intern to coordinate everything, even though they had only been working with one another for six weeks. 

Brock stuck a finger under the hinged brace around his elbow and itched at the skin. New Mexico’s dirt blew into places one didn’t know they had until they left and found it six months later. Brock _hated_ assignments in New Mexico, something always went to shit. And him fighting a Norse God? Unexpected, the fractured elbow was an unfortunate side effect. 

Barton slid into the seat next to him and tipped his dark sunglasses down and looked at his screen, “Natasha couldn’t crack it either.” He pointed to Lewis’ file. “She loves a good mystery.”

“Natasha just wants to know the secrets to the universe.” He sighed and continued to itch under the cast.

“Just letting you know, she couldn’t even work Coulson to open the file because he doesn’t have access either.” Barton shrugged under his absolutely gaudy turquoise bolo tie and shirt with pearl buttons. “So you know,” he made a _pfft_ noise before sliding back out as silently as he arrived. 

Brock exited the whole file and napped the laptop closed before he crossed his arms and continued to watch. The SHIELD agents asked her where to put things and it looked like they were following her exact directions. Not one machine was out of place, not one fingerprint was left on them. 

Watching the agents work tirelessly for two hours and nineteen minutes was interesting. Between Lewis ordering them around, she had made dinner for the two scientists and downed cold coffee from a ball jar from their mini fridge. Not one hair was out of place. Not a bead of sweat fell from her forehead. Fuck, she was wearing a sweater in eighty degree heat. The setting sun had done nothing for the temperature.

Brock hadn’t moved from his spot in the SUV until she looked at him, grinned, and crooked a finger at him. He shook his head and continued to sit in the captain seat. A college co-ed was not going to have him at her beck and call. She rolled her eyes and walked towards him, her feet moved heavily under her haphazardly tied combat boots. She motioned for him to roll down the window and he raised an eyebrow.

A deep red nail tapped on the windows a few times until he acquiesced and pressed the button on the steering wheel to drop the glass. “Do you have my iPod?” she asked.

Shortly, he replied, “No.” Brock’s lips pressed into a thin line as her eyes narrowed at him.

His back prickled as she asked, “Do you know where my iPod is?”

With a slow exhaled breath, he said, “No.”

“Do you know who might have my iPod?” She leaned back and crossed her own arms to match his stance.

The tingle ran down his spine again, “Coulson? Fury?”

The chill running down his spine stopped its roll and she scoffed, “Fucking Fury. Fucker.” Lewis kicked a rock and his eyes went wide with how far the rock was able to travel. She pointed at him with the blood red nail again, “You tell him I want it back.”

He shrugged and motioned with his hands, “Yeah, sure, if I see him.” Brock watched as she licked around her teeth behind her lips. She leveled him with the stare again and the same chill started at the top of his head and rolled through his body. Brock pushed the call button on the SUV and said, “Call Fury.”

The phone rang loudly in the vehicle and Lewis tapped her foot until he heard, “This better be good, Rumlow.”

“Lewis wants to know if you have her iPod.” Brock said, the chill rested in his lower back, keeping him in his seat.

“Goddamnit, Lewis, you did not.” Fury’s angry voice came through the speakers.

Lewis leaned through the window and Brock looked down. Her dark hair covered her whole torso, “I did, Nicholas.” Did she really just say that?

“You’ll get it back once I get all my agent’s back in one piece,” Fury said evenly.

“Ah, collateral.” Lewis flicked her eyes towards him and asked, “Can I keep this one, Director?”

“No.”

There was a dial tone and Brock felt the chill fall from his body again, warmth ran back up his spine and he adjusted his shoulders. “Did you really just say that to him?”

She cocked her head to the side and Brock watched as she assessed him. Lewis nodded, “You’re special aren’t you.”

“Don’t you have agents to harass into doing your work for you?” He sighed heavily and leaned away from her. 

“They’re done.” She shrugged her shoulders and moved out of his window. “Well, I’ll see you around,” it sounded like a promise. She rolled his name through her mouth as she said it, “Rumlow.”

Weeks later, Brock sat back in his theater chair and watched as the lights to the movie went down. The large **DO NOT ENGAGE** flashed behind his eyes as someone sat next to him, crunching on a handful of overly buttered popcorn.

“Didn’t pin you for a vampire fan, Rumlow.” The woman popped his name before crunching on more popcorn.

Brock listened to her eat loudly next to him.

“Aw, are you really going to give me the cold shoulder?” Brock looked over at her and she was making a pleading caricature of a puppy dog face. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the screen that was going black. “You’re seriously giving me the cold shoulder? Me?” He felt her drop back into her seat heavily, “Fury tell you to stay away?”

Brock looked at her again, half of her face was milk white and the other was cast in a dark shadow. He stuck his finger under the cast again and itched at his skin. “No. You’re just,” he waved a hand at her, “young.”

Lewis bounced in her seat as the first trailer started. “Oh man, what do they have my age as?”

“Are you fucking serious?” Brock asked, itching under the cast a little harder.

“Is it twenty four?” Lewis nodded and shoved another handful of popcorn into her mouth, “That’s their favorite for me.”

“Why are you here?” He asked seriously. His lips thinned out again and his brows furrowed. Why would she ask him all of this, was she _trolling_ him? Barton had said she was a master at trolling. Coulson had told him to stay far from her. 

Lewis shrugged her shoulders, they were under a thick _Culver Class of 2011_ sweater. “I was bored, Jane is doing the science, and I don’t feel like hanging around campus.”

“Culver is seventy miles away.” Brock watched her shrug her shoulders again. “Why are you here?” He leveled his best STRIKE Commander look at her. The trailer for the new _Resident Evil_ movie rolled in front of them. Garbage. 

Her tongue did _the thing_ again, it licked her teeth behind her lips while she thought. “I like vampires,” Lewis paused, “like _really like_ them.” She tilted her popcorn barrel at the screen, “Not fantastic cinema, but if it isn’t good spank bank material I don’t know what is.” Brock snorted, how could he disagree? _Queen of the Damned_ definitely wasn’t high cinema, but it was _fun_ it was _silly_ and, he couldn’t lie either, it was good spank bank material. “This movie is hot from the first scene to the last.” He turned his head back to the screen and watched as the trailer for Rare Exports rolled across the screen. It was supposed to be one hell of a Christmas movie. As she slurped at her fountain drink, he slid his eyes and took a look at her again, what did a college kid want with him.

As the opening scene to the movie started, he finally answered her question, “Twenty six. Your age in your file is twenty six.”

He heard her hum as the movie rolled in front of them. Thankfully, they were both sucked into the movie as Stuart Townsend prowled across the screen as rock star Lestat. When Akasha’s statue was shown, Darcy muttered, “She would never let herself be cast into stone.” She tsked before eating more popcorn. 

He rolled his shoulders and kicked his legs up onto the seat in front of him. A college aged woman shouldn’t put him on edge like she did. Fury and Coulson had been mum about the woman when he had finally asked about her. It had taken him three days to get the rest of the chill she put into him to go away. The look in her blue eyes had haunted him the last few weeks. She had looked at him, her teeth biting her lips as he drove the SUV around her. Lewis blew a kiss to him in the rearview mirror and she peeled the tires and spit gravel at her, not the most mature thing he had done, but her face had split into a laugh before she walked into the converted car dealership. 

“Ha!” Darcy laughed as Lestat was stopped from taking the last of the Queen’s blood. “He’s a greedy fuck. He wouldn’t stop if he had the chance.”

Her commentary through the movie made it sound like she knew the characters. Maybe she was a really big Anne Rice fan? By the end she was laughing to herself as she drank the last dregs of her soda. “You still don’t know?” She touched his arm, Darcy Lewis was ice cold, cold enough for him to move his arm away from her. 

“I don’t know what you want from me.” Brock said quietly.

He turned when she moved her hand back to his broken arm. “I could fix this for you, if you wanted.” Jonathan Davis’ voice warbled with the end credits. 

“Two more weeks and I’ll be back in fighting shape.” He stared at her pale face and she chewed on her lip.

“I can fix it for you.” She insisted.

“Are you a doctor?” Brock asked before turning his whole body. She was sitting tall and her eyes were reflecting the red exit signs.

Lewis opened her mouth and licked a pointed canine, “Almost.” He watched her tongue move to her other canine. It slowly sharpened at the end and she pricked her lips with them. Blood welled and Brock stopped breathing. “I _really_ like vampires.” She reached her hand out and pulled him in, “Do you?”

He watched as she smacked her lips and the blood stained them. His eyes flicked up and the red in her eyes had deepened, “I’m here.”

“Say you want it, Rumlow,” she teased.

Brock didn’t feel the icy chill run down his back this time as they held eyes. “Why?”

Lewis dropped her hand from his shirt and said seriously, “Consent is a thing with these matters.”

The blood was still on her lips while he looked down and stared at it. With a quick scan, he noted that the rest of the theater had exited and none of the theater staff had entered to start cleaning. Nodding, Brock let the younger woman pull him by the neck. After letting their lips slide against one another, he felt her blood drip into his mouth. It was lightning in his mouth. It was the sticky flavor of concentrated maple syrup. A cold beer on a hot summer day. Brock let a hand reach up and hold her face to him as he felt the feeling run through him and concentrate at his elbow before it continued around his body. 

“Easy, there, Commander,” Darcy pulled off of him and licked the two tiny wounds closed.

What the fuck was his life?

He’ll blame SHIELD for this one.

**Author's Note:**

> obviously I need to continue


End file.
